


To Build A Home

by CatWingsAthena



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aaron and Dave are the dads, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Autistic Spencer Reid, Bullying, Derek and Emily are 17, Emily is in her goth phase, Emily is the new kid, Family Feels, Gen, Hot Chocolate, Implied/Referenced Past Child Sexual Abuse, JJ is 14, Nightmares, Not shown on screen, Penelope is 16, Spencer is 12
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-07-03 22:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15827871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatWingsAthena/pseuds/CatWingsAthena
Summary: "We have all known the long loneliness, and we have found that the answer is community."- Dorothy DayThey're here now. That's what matters.Or, an alternate universe where instead of being the BAU crew, the characters we know and love as the Criminal Minds team are a foster family. Expect family feels, fluff and a bit of angst, but everyone gets taken good care of.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody! This chapter contains very vague allusions to past child sexual abuse (as per Derek Morgan's backstory--you probably wouldn't know what it was unless you knew the backstory of the character or had read this note) and references underage alcohol drinking that doesn't happen. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> First Chapter Summary: Derek wakes up from a nightmare one night and goes down to the kitchen to make himself some hot chocolate. Things escalate from there.

Derek woke suddenly, and for a moment wasn’t certain where he was.

Once he figured it out, he relaxed a bit. He was safe.

Still, he was far from being able to go back to sleep.

He’d been having the nightmares again.

Derek had learned from experience that lying in the dark and thinking about it only made things worse. The best thing for it was to get up and get moving, do something distracting. He might have gone for a run, but he didn’t want any of his siblings—or Dave or Aaron, for that matter—to catch him sneaking out and ask questions. So he went down to the kitchen instead. Hot cocoa might not help, but it couldn’t hurt. And maybe, if nobody came down, he could put a bit of something stronger in it. He had football practice after school, so not much, but enough to take the edge off.

Derek crept down to the kitchen, poured some milk into a pot on the stove, and turned on the heat. Then he got the cocoa powder, sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon down from the cabinet.

Just as the milk was getting warm, he heard footsteps on the stairs.

“What’re you doing up?” called Penelope from across the room.

Derek turned. “I felt like hot cocoa,” he replied.

Penelope smiled. “Are you by any chance making enough for two?”

Derek returned the smile. “I could be,” he said, pouring a generous extra glug of milk into the pot and getting a second mug down from the cabinet.

Penelope sat at the table. “It feels kind of weird to be up this early,” she said. “So quiet.”

Derek nodded. Then he tilted his head. “Hear that?”

Once again, footsteps were sounding on the stairs. Soon enough, JJ appeared in view. 

“Oh, hey guys,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“We’re just having some hot cocoa,” said Penelope.

JJ smiled slyly. “Could we make it a hot cocoa party?” she asked.

“Sure thing,” said Derek. “Why don’t you go get Spencer and Emily?”

A short time later, JJ returned with a very sleepy Spencer in tow (“it’s 3:46 in the morning,” he was complaining, though his eyes brightened when he saw the pot on the stove and the fixings on the counter). She then dashed back up the stairs to retrieve Emily.

Derek poured the milk into a larger pot and grabbed more mugs from the cabinet. As he was starting to add more milk, Emily appeared, with JJ in tow, looking very much unamused and loosely holding a baseball bat. “JJ,” she said, “what the hell?”

“Well,” said JJ innocently, “I knew you wouldn’t come downstairs if I just  _ said  _ we were having a hot cocoa party. But will you stay?”

“You look less intimidating without eyeliner,” Spencer opined.

Emily turned and started to run upstairs. “Hey,” called Derek. “Don’t even think about putting on eyeliner for a hot cocoa party with your family.”

“I mean, you do you,” said JJ, with a sideways glare at Spencer, “but in my personal opinion, it’d be ridiculous.” She held out her hand and waved it in a come-over-here motion. “C’mon. Stay. If you hate it, you can leave.”

“We’re going to have to water down this cocoa if we want to save milk for breakfast,” said Derek.

“I really don’t need any,” said Emily, who was by this point sitting around the table along with everyone else.

Everyone manifestly ignored her. There were nods all around.

Finally, the watered-down milk was hot, and Derek mixed in the sugar and cocoa, adding a splash of vanilla. He took everyone’s mugs to them, and put the cinnamon on the table.

“May I have an extra spoonful of sugar in mine?” Spencer asked eagerly.

“Already put it in,” said Derek as he handed Spencer his mug.

Everyone took their first sips, and a chorus of “mmm”s rang up from the table.

Just then, Aaron came downstairs.

He took in the scene with one look. “Did you save some milk for breakfast?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Derek, as everyone nodded. “But then we’ll be out.”

“Good to know,” said Aaron solemnly. With that, he went back to bed.

JJ and Spencer giggled.

Emily blinked. “Wow. So he just... lets you do what you want?”

“Not at all,” said Derek. “He knows how to keep us in line. But things like this, that are fun and don’t hurt anyone? He’s fine with. Both of them are.”

Emily nodded. “Okay.”

Penelope smiled. “I’m a hacker, and they’re less fine with  _ that.  _ I have to keep things either legal or  _ very  _ hush-hush.” Penelope’s expression left Emily in little doubt which option she often went with.

“I do magic,” said Spencer, “and sometimes it gets messy, like my rockets. And this one time we were all in the kitchen, and I’d made a rocket, and it went everywhere, and Aaron walked in, and I thought he was going to be mad, and he just said, ‘you’re starting to get some distance on those things,’ and walked away.”

Emily snorted.

“I can show you at some point, if you want,” said Spencer.

“Maybe,” said Emily.

For a while, they sat in companionable quiet, drinking their cocoa, surrounded by the early morning.

Then, JJ yawned. “I’m going to sleep,” she said, holding up her empty cocoa mug.

Spencer and Penelope soon followed suit.

Emily and Derek were left sitting at the table, holding empty cocoa mugs in the early-morning stillness.

“Hey,” said Derek finally. “It’s okay not to be sure about us yet. But take it from me—it doesn’t get better than this. Dave and Aaron, they will fight for you, no matter what. And the only, the  _ only _ way they will give you up is if you ask them, in a serious conversation, or if they legally have no choice.” He paused. “We’re your family now. We’re happy to have you. And you might as well get used to both those facts.”

Slowly, Emily nodded. “I’m going to bed,” she said. “Good night.”

“Good night,” said Derek, and watched Emily leave the kitchen.

Soon, Derek was alone with the kitchen table, an empty cocoa mug, and his thoughts.

Which were, somewhat surprisingly, not the worst things to be alone with.

True, thoughts of his dreams and the memories that had formed them were still there. But, in the precious hour he’d spent with his siblings, they’d receded to a tolerable level.

Now he was thinking about Emily—wondering how well she would adjust to life with them, hoping she would be okay. He was thinking about how she and JJ seemed to be getting on, and how glad he was about that. He was thinking about Elle, wondering if she was all right. He was thinking about Penelope and her hacking, hoping she didn’t get in trouble. He was thinking about Spencer, how Elle’s leaving had hit him hard and he’d had trouble warming up to Emily, but he seemed to be making an effort, and Derek was  _ proud  _ of him. He was thinking about his family.

Derek went back to sleep, and when the nightmares came back he thought of his people (he had  _ people  _ now, people who  _ loved _ him, as a  _ person  _ and not as a thing), and it was enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Spencer doesn't come home from school one day, his family naturally go looking for him.
> 
> When they find him, comfort and a new plan are in order.
> 
> Or, that horrible memory of Spencer's from "Elephant's Memory", but with a much better ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! Please be warned that this chapter contains really intense bullying and brief nonsexual and non-described nudity. (Should you be worried, it also contains more hot cocoa, a weighted blanket, and a hug.) Hope you enjoy!

“Hey,” said JJ, looking up from her algebra homework, “where’s Spencer?”

“He didn’t come in?” asked Penelope, who was sitting across the table with her laptop.

“Not that I saw,” said JJ. “I’ll check his room just to be sure.”

JJ walked up the stairs and knocked on the door to Spencer’s room. “Spence?” she called. When there was no reply, she opened the door and quickly looked inside.

The room did not contain her brother.

JJ went back downstairs and reported her findings to Penelope.

“Maybe he stayed late to study at the library, or talk to a teacher or something?” said Penelope.

“He hardly ever does that,” said JJ, “and he always calls or texts if he’s going to be late getting home.”

“Maybe he called Dave and he just didn’t tell us?” said Penelope.

“We could ask,” said JJ.

“Ask what?” said Derek, who had wandered into the kitchen to get a snack.

“Spencer’s not home, and we were wondering if he called Dave to explain why,” JJ said.

Derek frowned. “Sounds like a good idea.”

Together, they made their way to Dave’s office and knocked on the door. “Come in,” Dave called.

They did.

“What’s going on?” said Dave.

“Did Spencer call you to say he’d be late getting home?” asked Derek.

“No,” said Dave. Then he checked his phone. “Oh, wait, he texted, I was writing, I must have missed hearing it...” He read the message again. “Guys, we have a problem.”

“What exactly did he say?” asked Derek.

“He said, ‘I might be home late today. Don’t worry.’ Does anything about that strike anyone else as strange?”

“When he calls or texts to say he’s going to be late,” said Penelope, “he always explains why. Always.”

“And he usually gives an estimate of _how_ late,” said JJ.

“There’s only one thing that would make a twelve-year-old boy stay after school that he wouldn’t want to tell his parents about,” said Dave.

“A girl,” said Derek.

“And, no offence to Spencer,” said Dave, “but he’s an awkward twelve-year-old in high school. No girl’s actually going to want anything to do with him.” He paused, and everyone’s faces clouded. “If I’m right, we’d better get there quick.”

“I’ll get Emily,” called JJ, running up the stairs. She promptly returned with Emily running behind her, as everyone else was loading up the van.

...

When they arrived at Spencer’s high school, Dave immediately began issuing directions. “Derek, take the top floor. Emily, ground floor. Penelope, basement. JJ, you’re with me, we’re going around back. If you see something you can’t handle on your own, hang back and text me, and I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

Everyone proceeded to their designated locations and began searching.

As Dave and JJ approached the football field, they heard a scream.

They looked at each other.

“Stay there,” said Dave.

“Not a chance in hell,” said JJ, and took off running toward the sound.

“Dammit,” muttered Dave, and sprinted after her.

JJ arrived first.

She couldn’t see Spencer very well through the clump of burly boys clustered around a goalpost, but she could hear him. His voice had gone squeaky in the way it only did when he was terrified, in pain, or both, and he seemed to be pleading.

“No,” he was saying. “No, no, please, stop, don’t, _please...”_

Off to the side, JJ noticed, a crowd of people were watching and smirking. JJ’s blood, which was already boiling, boiled a little hotter.

JJ turned her attention back to the boys. “Stop!” she yelled. “That’s my brother!” She wasn’t thinking of her own safety, only of getting them to leave Spencer alone.

The boys either didn’t hear her, or considered her beneath their notice.

That was when JJ remembered something.

Dave had given her a whistle in case she was ever in danger and needed help. It was in her pocket.

She pulled it out and blew it as hard as she could.

The boys froze in unison and looked up.

JJ almost laughed. _Classical conditioning at its finest_ , she thought.

That was when Dave arrived, somewhat out of breath.

Immediately, he addressed the boys.

“I don’t know how many of you give a damn about your futures,” he said, “but I imagine most of you give a damn about staying out of jail. Now, I’m going to retrieve my son, and if any of you try to stop me, I _will_ press assault and battery charges. Because, unlike Spencer, I am an adult, and people care what I have to say. Frankly, I might press charges anyway if you so much as _look_ at me wrong right now, and Spencer’s other father is a prosecutor, so I _can_ get them to stick. Therefore, I highly suggest that it is in your best interests to _scram._ ”

They did, along with the assembled onlookers.

Then, JJ looked at Spencer—and immediately looked away.

He was naked, for one thing. For another, from the brief glimpse she’d had, he seemed to be rather badly bruised.

She looked at Dave, instead.

Dave was also averting his eyes. He took off his jacket and held it out, blocking his view, then came up to Spencer and tied it around his waist.

“It’s over,” he whispered. “You’re gonna be okay.”

By this time, Derek, Emily and Penelope were sprinting across the field.

“Jayj, we got your text—oh my God,” said Penelope, clapping a hand over her mouth.

“Who has a knife?” asked Dave.

Derek and Emily each pulled Swiss army knives out of their pockets, then started to cut Spencer loose.

Penelope, meanwhile, had found Spencer’s clothes, tossed in a heap on the ground. She grabbed them and brought them over, handing them to JJ, who was standing next to Spencer. As soon as his hands were free, JJ helped him get his shirt on. Once his legs were free, JJ shut her eyes and let him use her arm to balance while he finished getting dressed. JJ’s eyes were closed, so she was surprised when Spencer suddenly flung his arms around her neck and collapsed onto her. She wrapped her arms around him, swaying back and forth slightly. They stayed that way for a while, until Spencer broke the contact.

“Where are my glasses?” he mumbled. “I can’t see.”

“Over here,” called Emily. Then she paused. “I’m sorry.”

“Are they broken?” asked Spencer.

“Yes,” said Emily, holding up the trampled glasses.

Spencer shut his eyes and took a deep breath, wincing as he did so. “Dave,” he asked. “May I get contacts?”

“If you want them, absolutely,” said Dave. “Now c’mon. Let’s go home.”

...

The van ride home was quiet, and mostly consisted of Spencer staring at the blur out the window while everyone else tried and failed to thing of something suitably comforting to say.

Instead, they were just _there_. They sat in silence and tried to let their presence fill the van with assurances that he wasn’t alone, that it would be all right, that he was safe.

Dave, meanwhile, was ruminating.

How long had this been going on? Bullying incidents that big were never a one-time thing. These kids had probably been tormenting Spencer for his entire high school career, and he’d never mentioned it... Maybe because he’d been bullied so long he saw it as normal? Well, whatever the context, it stopped today. Dave had an idea, but he needed to call a meeting with Aaron and Spencer to see how they reacted.

He was planning the whole way home.

...

When Aaron finally got home, it was late.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” said Dave, as soon as he stepped through the door.

“Can it wait five minutes?” asked Aaron.

“No, it really can’t,” said Dave. “Or at least, if I gave you five minutes, you’d be furious with me for not telling you immediately.”

“What is it?”

Dave filled Aaron in on the day's events.

Aaron’s jaw clenched as he listened.

“So,” Dave concluded, “I think we need to call a meeting—you, me, Spencer—to talk about what we’re going to do. Because I am not sending him back to that place.”

“Agreed,” said Aaron. “What do you think we should do instead?”

“I was thinking about online school,” said Dave.

“I think that could work,” said Aaron. “There’s the issue of limited socialization, but he has four siblings, I think he’ll be all right.”

“And it won’t be for very much longer,” said Dave. “He graduates this year.”

“Okay,” said Aaron, “I’ll get Spencer.”

...

Spencer was lying on his bed, underneath his weighted blanket.

When Aaron walked in, he didn’t stir.

“It’s me,” said Aaron. “Dave and I are having a meeting, and we’d like you to be a part of it.”

“What sort of meeting?” asked Spencer, still without moving.

“A meeting about our options for what to do next, since we’re certainly not making you go back to that school,” said Aaron, sitting down on the bed.

Spencer sat up, eyes wide. “But I can’t miss school,” he said.

“I don’t think you will,” said Aaron. “Come on out and you’ll see. You can bring your blanket.”

Spencer got out of bed, tucked the blanket around his shoulders, and padded down the stairs to the kitchen.

When he arrived, Dave had made hot cocoa and poured it into three mugs.

Spencer took his mug and began sipping it, and Dave spoke. “Obviously, regular school isn’t working out for you. It’s important that you know that that isn’t your fault, it’s the fault of the people who are bullying you. We’re thinking about pulling you out of your current school—”

“You can’t do that!” Spencer exclaimed. “I have to graduate as fast as I can so I can go to MIT and get my degrees and—”

“Let me finish, okay?” said Dave. “Like I was saying, we’re thinking about pulling you out of your current school and putting you in online school. You could finish school just as fast, colleges would still take you, and you would never have to deal with brick-mortar-and-teenagers high school again.”

Spencer thought about it for a moment. “You’re sure that would be okay with colleges?” he asked.

“As sure as we can be,” said Aaron.

“Then yes,” said Spencer, with a slight smile.

“One more thing,” said Aaron. “I hate to bring this up, but the people who hurt you today, do you know any of their names?”

“They were the whole football team,” said Spencer, “I know that much.”

“And the ones who were watching, do you know their names?” asked Dave.

“Alexa Lisben,” said Spencer. “Harper Hillman, I don’t know. Lots.”

Aaron nodded. “Thank you. I know it’s hard to get bullies punished, but if they aren’t it won’t be for lack of trying on our part.”

Spencer nodded. “And I don’t ever have to go back?”

“Never,” said Aaron. “Sleep in tomorrow. We’ll get you set up for online school as soon as we can—and we’ll get you those contacts.”

“Thank you,” said Spencer.

“Oh, and by the way? Derek, Emily, Penelope, JJ, I don’t like eavesdropping,” said Aaron, without raising his voice. “Go to your rooms.”

There was a _thudding_ noise on the stairs, and a cry of “aw, man!” as four teenagers tromped off to their respective rooms.

Dave smiled slightly. “Now that your siblings are gone, is there anything else you want to tell us about what happened?”

“You don’t have to,” said Aaron, “but you can if you want.”

“No,” said Spencer. “Just... thank you for coming to find me. All of you.”

“Of course,” said Dave.

“How did you know, anyway?” asked Spencer. “I told you I’d be late.”

“I still have some tricks up my sleeve,” said Dave. “And you have very perceptive siblings.”

Spencer smiled a little. “I know.”

“Now go research online school,” said Dave. “I know you want to.”

Spencer was up until 2 A.M. doing just that.

When he did fall asleep, it was with the thought that things were about to get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Let me know what you thought, and, as before, if you have suggestions for further chapters! (Right now the muse is just giving me Spencer-centric ideas, and I'd like to keep this an ensemble fic...) Anyway, thanks for reading! Virtual hot cocoa in your direction!


	3. JJ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This next series of chapters is going to go back in time, to when each of the kids joined the family, with a chapter for each of them. The first such chapter is JJ's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains attempted suicide (not a main character), discussions of suicidal thoughts (again, not a main character), and the separation of siblings through the foster system. Also, I have no idea how said system actually works, so any glaring errors are my own fault. Also, yes, Haley and Jack exist in this universe, because they seem like such a fundamental part of Hotch's existence to me that I didn't want to leave them out. We won't be seeing them, but they're there. Hope you enjoy!

****Dave sat in the passenger’s seat of the car and tried to be calm.

After all this time, it was really happening. They were going to be parents.

“You’re a parent,” he said to Aaron, without preamble. “What’s it like?”

There was a pause while Aaron considered his words.

“Honestly?” Aaron replied. “I can’t explain it. It’s a lot-- _more_ than you’d think, in every way. But you’ll soon find out.”

“That’s comforting,” Dave groused.

Aaron smiled slightly. “It’ll be all right. And this _was_ your idea.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Dave. “I just--what if I screw up?”

“You won’t,” Aaron said as he pulled into the parking space.

They walked into the building, side by side, and soon came to the meeting room. Waiting for them were a social worker and a blonde nine-year-old, who looked up even before the door opened.

“Hello, JJ,” said Aaron as soon as they were in the room. “I’m Aaron, and this is Dave. How are you?”

“I’m okay,” she said, eyes darting from one to the other as if sizing them up. “How are you?”

“I’m very glad to be meeting you today,” said Aaron.

“So am I,” said Dave. “We’re going to be your foster parents. Do you have any questions for us?”

“Can you take my sister too?” JJ asked immediately.

The social worker looked at Dave and Aaron apologetically. “I’ve already told her the answer,” she said.

“No, kiddo,” said Dave gently. “We tried. But we’ve gotten in touch with your sister’s foster family, and they’re open to visits and phone calls.”

JJ smiled a little. “So I still get to see her?”

“Yes,” said Aaron. “Do you have any more questions?”

“Do you have other kids?” asked JJ.

“Not yet,” said Aaron, “but we’re open to the possibility.”

“Cool!” said JJ. “I think I’d like more siblings.”

“Noted,” said Aaron with a slight smile.

...

The car ride home was quiet.

When they arrived at the house, JJ took it in with wide eyes. “This place is huge!” she declared.

Dave smiled. “Perks of being a bestselling author,” he said.

JJ turned to look at him. “What do you write about?” she asked.

“I used to be in the FBI,” Dave replied. “I write about that.”

“Cool,” said JJ. “Can I read something you wrote?”

“When you’re older,” said Dave.

“C’mon in,” said Aaron as JJ started to protest. “Do you want to see your room?”

JJ nodded.

Dave pointed out various rooms of the house until they arrived at JJ’s room. The walls were pale brown. “We didn’t know what color you’d like,” said Dave, “so we left it the way it was. We’ll take you shopping for paint in a few days, once you’re settled in.”

“You can pick out new bedding, if you want,” said Aaron, gesturing to the dark brown comforter and white sheets. “This is what we had, but if there’s something else you’d like--”

“This is good,” said JJ.

“We want you to feel at home,” said Dave. “So if there’s anything we can do to help with that...”

JJ smiled slightly. “I think right now I’d just like to call my sister,” she said.

“Okay,” said Dave. “Phone’s downstairs”.

...

Two years went by, and JJ blossomed.

She was continuing with soccer, and doing well in both athletics and school. She’d gone through a rough patch in school since the loss of her parents, but managed to pull herself out of it. She was still dealing with nightmares, but they were coming less frequently, and she was seeing a therapist. All in all, she was a reasonably happy, well-adjusted girl.

Her sister Roslyn... not so much.

Roslyn had taken the loss of her parents hard, and it was showing. JJ called and visited her often, but told Dave and Aaron that she seemed sad and distant.

Then one day, JJ came back from a visit smiling.

“Roslyn seemed happier today,” she said when Dave picked her up. “And look!” She held up a small golden heart pendant that hung around her neck.

“It’s her favorite,” said JJ. “I told her I couldn’t take it, but she insisted. Isn’t it beautiful?”

A cloud passed over Dave’s face.

“JJ,” he asked, “what else did Roslyn say to you?”

“She asked me how I was,” said JJ. “Mostly we talked about me... and she told me that she’d always love me, no matter what,” said JJ, with a soft smile. “Why?”

Dave turned the car around.

“What is it?” asked JJ. “What’s wrong?”

“Hopefully nothing,” said Dave.

“Please,” said JJ. “Something’s wrong, I can tell. Is Roslyn okay?”

Dave was quiet for a moment. Then he spoke. “What you’ve told me about how Roslyn was acting matches the way people sometimes act when they’re planning on taking their lives. Now, I don’t--”

“Oh God,” said JJ.

“--I don’t know for certain that she has any such intentions, but I just want to make sure her parents know to check in with her,” said Dave.

JJ took a deep breath and nodded.

Soon, they arrived back at Roslyn’s parents’ house. “Stay in the car,” Dave told JJ, and she reluctantly complied.

Dave walked up to the front door and knocked. “Hello?” he called.

Roslyn’s mother answered the door. “Did JJ forget something?” she asked.

“Mrs. Marshall, there’s really no easy way to say this,” said Dave. “JJ’s report of Roslyn’s behavior today gives me reason to suspect she may be suicidal.”

“What?” exclaimed Mrs. Marshall, pressing a hand to her mouth. “If this is some kind of sick joke, I...”

“It’s not, I promise,” said Dave, “and I really think you should check on your daughter.”

Slowly, Mrs. Marshall nodded. Then, she disappeared into the house.

After a minute, a scream rang out. She didn’t reappear.

Eventually, JJ got out of the car and went to stand by Dave.

Then, the ambulance showed up.

Tears formed in JJ’s eyes, and she buried her face in Dave’s sleeve. Dave put a hand on her back and watched the paramedics go into the house.

Minutes later, they emerged with a bandaged Roslyn and a panicking Mr. and Mrs. Marshall.

JJ looked at Roslyn.

Roslyn looked at JJ, but only for a moment before the paramedics took her into the back of the ambulance as she protested weakly.

JJ sprinted to the ambulance and hopped into the back with Roslyn and Mrs. Marshall.

_Dammit,_ thought Dave.

He drove behind the ambulance to the hospital.

...

When Dave found JJ and the Marshalls, JJ was huddled in a chair, hugging her legs and burying her face in her knees. Mrs. Marshall was sitting next to her, tears running down her face. Mr. Marshall was sitting next to his wife, looking shell-shocked.

Immediately, Dave went over and sat down next to JJ, who leaned over until her head was resting on his shoulder. He put an arm around her, and felt tremors begin to wrack her body. They picked up in intensity until she was full-on sobbing.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dave whispered. “It’s okay. Let it all out.”

They sat like that for a while, until a nurse walked in. “Family of Roslyn Jareau?” she asked.

Mrs. Marshall nodded.

“She lost a lot of blood, but we’ve got her stabilized. No major tendons were severed, so she should still have full use of her hands. All in all, physically, we’re expecting a full recovery. Psychologically, of course, she’ll need care. The hospital has a list of good therapists in the area that I’ve printed out for you,” said the nurse, handing the Marshalls a sheet of paper.

“Thank you,” said Mr. Marshall. “May we see her?”

“One at a time,” said the nurse.

“Thank you,” said Mr. Marshall.

...

When JJ’s turn to see Roslyn came, she walked in somewhat apprehensively.

To see her sister in a hospital gown, with bandaged arms and an IV--it was disturbing.

More disturbing was the reason she was there.

“Hey,” said JJ, as she walked in.

“Do you hate me?” asked Roslyn.

JJ blinked. “What?”

“I’ll understand if you do,” Roslyn said softly. “I just wanna know.”

“Of course I don’t hate you,” said JJ. “I mean, I’m sad, and scared, and kind of furious, but I don’t hate you.” She paused. “Please never do that again.”

“So... you’d miss me?”

JJ stared. “ _Of course_ I’d miss you. How can you doubt that?”

Roslyn looked away. “I don’t know, I just... sometimes I feel like I drag you down, like I’m a wet blanket and I’m keeping you from this great life you could have. I drag everyone down,” she said.

“That’s not true,” said JJ, putting a hand on Roslyn’s shoulder. “You’re my sister, and I love you. You don’t drag me down. And you dying would be more of a wet blanket than you being low could ever be.”

Roslyn smiled a little bit. “Thanks,” she said.

They sat in quiet, after that, until the nurse shooed JJ out.

Roslyn didn’t try again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! Did you like this style of chapter--exploring one character's arrival story? They're going to get more interesting as we go along and the arriving kids have more other kids to bounce off of, so apologies for the dearth of sibling interaction in this chapter. Next chapter is Derek's, then Spencer's, then Penelope's, then Elle's (and her leaving as well), then Emily's, if I get that far. Thank you for reading!


	4. Derek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Derek joined the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains references to (recent) past child sexual abuse (specifically, the sexual abuse of a teenager). I feel weird saying this after saying that, but I hope you enjoy!

It was afternoon when the call came in. Aaron was at work, and JJ was at school, so naturally, Dave picked up the phone.

“Hello,” said the woman on the other end of the line. “May I please speak with David Rossi or Aaron Hotchner?”

“You’re speaking with David Rossi now,” said Dave. “How may I help you?”

“I’m Marissa with the foster agency, and I wanted to congratulate you on how well your match with JJ has been working out,” she said.

“But that’s not why you called,” said Dave. “What is it?”

“Well,” said Marissa, “I was wondering if you’d be open to taking in another child. His name is Derek Morgan, he’s fifteen, and he’s been with an interim family for a week and a half. He hasn’t caused any trouble in that time, which is frankly remarkable, considering the circumstances...”

“And what are the circumstances?” asked Dave.

The line was silent for a moment. “Derek’s former placement was with a man who recently had all the children under his care removed from his custody,” Marissa said finally. “It was discovered he’d been sexually abusing them.”

Dave covered the phone’s mouthpiece and swore. Then he said, “I need to talk to Aaron about this.”

“I understand completely. Please call us back as soon as you reach a decision, and I ask that you do it as soon as possible.”

“Will do,” said Dave.

“Oh, and one more thing,” said Marissa. “Just so you know, he’s black. Is that a problem for any reason?”

Dave scoffed. “Ma’am, I’m sure you deal with a lot of assholes in this job, but we are not among them.”

“Just had to check,” said Marissa, with a hint of a smile in her voice. Then, she took on a more serious tone. “I’ll understand if you don’t feel you’re ready to take on this kind of challenge,” she said, “but if you are, I’d appreciate it, and so, I’m sure, would Derek.”

“I’ll call you back,” said Dave.

“Thank you,” said Marissa, and hung up.

...

When Aaron got home, JJ was in her room, and Dave was waiting.

After the usual leave-me-alone-for-at-least-five-minutes routine, Dave said, “there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Yes?” said Aaron, from the couch.

“I got a call from the foster agency today,” said Dave. “They want to know if we’d take in another kid. He’s fifteen, his name’s Derek Morgan.”

Aaron considered, then nodded. “We’ve been saying we’d be open to more kids,” he said. “I think it’s time. Do you?”

Dave nodded. “There’s something else you need to know,” he said, and Aaron nodded slightly, indicating that he should continue. “Derek was abused at his previous foster placement, and only got out recently. As in, around a week and a half ago.”

“What kind of abuse are we talking about here?” asked Aaron, picking up on something in Dave’s voice or expression that already told him the answer.

“Sexual,” Dave said, and, while Aaron’s expression remained steady, Dave could see his fists clenching by his sides.

“All right,” said Aaron, “do we know anything about him as a person? I want to make sure he’ll be good with JJ.”

“All I know is that he, quote-unquote, ‘hasn’t caused any trouble’ while he’s been living with the interim family,” said Dave.

“Well, that’s something,” said Aaron. “What do you think?”

“I think we should go for it,” said Dave. “I need to call back the foster agency--but first, let’s go tell JJ, see if she has any strong objection.”

“Agreed,” said Aaron.

...

JJ, as it transpired, had no objections whatsoever.

“So when is he getting here?” she asked, when Dave got off the phone.

“Tomorrow, in the morning,” he said.

“Hey Dave?” asked JJ. “Can we go get some construction paper?”

“Sure thing,” said Dave. “Why?”

“You’ll see,” said JJ, smiling.

...

In the car on the way home from the foster agency, Derek was mostly quiet.

Every now and then, though, he punctuated the quiet with a question.

“So what do you guys do for a living?” he asked.

“I’m a federal prosecutor,” said Aaron.

“And I used to work for the FBI,” said Dave, “but now I’m retired and write books about it.”

“That’s cool,” said Derek. “I want to be a cop, like my dad. What did you do in the FBI?”

“A few things,” said Dave. “The thing I’m proudest of, though, is that I helped start the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We used the way a criminal behaves to help catch them. If you want to be a cop, you should definitely study psychology--it’ll help you even if you don’t go into something like the BAU.”

“And you told me you have another kid, JJ--what’s she like?”

“She’s very kind,” said Aaron. “Intelligent, athletic--from what I know of you so far, I think the two of you will get along.”

After that, Derek lapsed into silence.

Then after a while, he spoke up again, in a small voice. “Does she know?”

“Absolutely not,” said Aaron. “We would never disclose something so personal without your permission.”

“Please, don’t tell her,” said Derek. “I want her to get to know  _ me _ .”

“Of course,” said Dave.

“I didn’t want them to tell you,” said Derek, “but they didn’t listen.”

“I’m sorry your wishes in this matter were ignored,” said Aaron. While that was the truth, he was also privately glad they knew, because he thought it would be easier to help Derek this way. But he didn’t think saying that out loud was likely to be helpful.

Soon enough, they arrived at home.

When they walked in and through the entryway, a smile spread over Derek’s face.

A banner was hanging in the first open space--string and squares of multicolored construction paper with letters on them in contrasting colors. The letters said  _ WELCOME DEREK _ .

Under the banner, a blonde girl was smiling proudly.

“Hey,” she said, walking over to Derek and extending her hand, “I’m JJ. Welcome home!”

“Derek,” he said, shaking her hand, “but it looks like you already knew that. Did you do this yourself?”

JJ nodded, grinning.

“Girl, you are  _ amazing _ with construction paper,” said Derek.

“Thank you!” JJ said. “I was up until 3 last night working on it.”

“JJ, I told you to go to bed,” said Aaron.

“I did!” said JJ innocently. “I worked on it  _ in _ bed.”

Dave glanced over at Aaron. “She gets it from you, you know,” he muttered.

“Do you want to see the house?” asked JJ.

“Sure,” said Derek, and off they went.

...

Soon enough, they’d settled into a rhythm.

Derek was keeping up in school and football (maybe throwing himself into them a little too hard. But it was a healthier coping mechanism than many, and, if it worked for him, Aaron and Dave weren’t complaining). He was seeing a therapist (he’d grumbled quite a bit about that, but eventually agreed). He was getting along with JJ. While they had their rocky patches (including some conversations that consisted of Derek shouting at Aaron and Aaron not shouting back), all in all, things were going well.

Of course, that couldn’t last.

Two weeks in, the subpoena came.

Derek was called as a witness in the trial of Carl Buford.

Dave sat alone--he was the only one in the house, Aaron was at work and Derek and JJ were both at school--and wondered what to do.

He texted Aaron. <Derek was subpoenaed,> he said. <What should we do?>

Naturally, there was no reply. Aaron when at work was usually either too busy to check his phone or in a place where he couldn’t. 

After about an hour, Aaron texted back.

<Tell him,> he said. <I can probably find someone to make it go away if necessary, but we should let him make his own decision.>

<Agreed,> Dave texted back.

Luckily, JJ had soccer practice that day and Derek didn’t have football practice, so Derek got home before JJ did. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked the instant he saw Dave’s face.

Dave took a deep breath and wordlessly handed over the subpoena.

Derek’s face clouded as he read it. After a moment, he slammed it back down on the counter. “Bastard probably made sure we all got called,” he said quietly. “He’s still trying to control us, even if it just means he goes away.”

Dave didn’t disagree with Derek’s assessment, but he said nothing to that effect. “You know,” he said. “Aaron knows a lot of lawyers. We could make this go away. You don’t have to do this.”

Derek shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and clenched his fists. Then, he opened his eyes and looked at Dave.

“Yes,” he said, “I do.”

...

The night after Derek gave his testimony, after JJ and Derek had both retired to their rooms, Dave and Aaron sat on the couch, having a drink.

Derek had been quiet after the trial. He’d brushed off JJ’s attempts to engage him in conversation with vague excuses about being tired and having a lot of homework, then holed up in his room, refusing even to come out for dinner (the plate Dave had left just outside his door had remained untouched). Typical fifteen-year-old behavior, perhaps--but knowing the context made Dave and Aaron distinctly worried.

“I just wish...” said Dave, “I wish we could do more to help him.”

“I know,” said Aaron. “If I could prosecute this case... it would be a conflict of interest, of course, a  _ severe _ conflict of interest, but I would...”

“Yeah,” said Dave, who hadn’t missed the tightness of Aaron’s jaw or his death grip on his glass. “But I suppose we’re doing what we can. All we can really do is be his parents, right?”

Aaron gave a slight smile. “Right as usual.”

...

It was going to be a long, hard road, and all three of them knew it.

But it wasn’t going to be a lonely one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Next up is Spencer's arrival story--I'm working on that right now. I'm behind on some schoolwork, though, so no guarantees about timeframe.


	5. Spencer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer's arrival story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! Friggin' finally, I get the next chapter up! (I just finished my junior year of college, which is why I have the time now.) Please be warned that this chapter contains a description of a meltdown and some pretty serious internalized ableism. Also note that I made Spencer a lot more visibly autistic than he is in canon. Why? Because he's ten. I know I was a lot more visibly autistic at ten than I am now (although I still have my moments). People grow up, and change as they do, so I took a creative liberty. Hope you enjoy!

Aaron and Dave arrived at the foster agency on a Sunday afternoon in June.

Even though Derek and JJ were both free, they’d decided against bringing them along--they didn’t want to overwhelm their newest charge, a ten-year-old named Spencer Reid.

From what Marissa, the foster agency representative, had told them on the phone, that might be a little too easy.

_ He’s not diagnosed, but we’re fairly certain he’s autistic, _ she’d said.  _ He hasn’t said anything since we picked him up except statistics on the foster system. Can you handle that? _

Dave had assured her that Spencer’s autism wouldn’t be a problem for them, that they were prepared to accommodate him however they could. Which started with introducing themselves and the rest of the family slowly. From what Marissa had told them, Spencer’s separation from his mother had been, in her words, “difficult”. Dave and Aaron could both read between the lines of that just fine. The kid was in shock.

When they got to the room that had Spencer in it, Aaron slowly opened the door.

A long-haired boy with glasses was sitting at a table, clutching a notebook. There was a social worker sitting with him. He’d turned his head to the sound of the door opening, but wasn’t looking directly at Aaron. More like at a point over his shoulder.

“Hello, Spencer,” said Aaron. “I’m Aaron. Dave is outside. We’re going to be your foster parents. Do you have any questions for us?”

There was silence.

Then, Spencer spoke.

“On average, foster children move houses four to six times,” he said. “Some move as many as fifteen times.”

Aaron nodded. Then, he crouched down to be on Spencer’s level. Mindful of the little he knew about autism, he didn’t force eye contact, but he made sure Spencer could see his face.

“But that’s not what’s going to happen to you,” he said.

Spencer was silent.

“Is it okay if Dave comes in?” asked Aaron. Slowly, Spencer nodded.

Aaron gestured to Dave, who’d been waiting just outside the door. Dave walked in and made his way over to Aaron, Spencer, and the social worker.

“Hey kiddo,” said Dave. “I’m Dave. It’s good to meet you.”

Spencer didn’t react. Dave was unfazed.

“Are you ready to go?” Dave asked.

Spencer nodded.

“Then let’s go,” said Aaron.

...

Aaron and Dave had expected a quiet car ride home.

What they got was  _ silence. _

They talked to Spencer, telling him about Derek and JJ, telling him what would happen when they arrived. They wanted to make sure there were as few surprises as possible (to that end, they’d told JJ no construction-paper banners this time). When they were almost home, Spencer finally spoke up.

“Fewer than three percent of foster kids go on to get a college degree,” he said.

“Do you want a college degree?” asked Aaron.

Spencer nodded fiercely. “I-- I’m not stupid,” he said.

“Nobody said you were,” said Dave, turning in his seat to look at Spencer. “If you want one, I don’t see any reason you shouldn’t get one.” He paused. “I bet you had a pretty good idea of how your life was going to go before this happened. And now everything’s changed. That’s gotta be scary.”

Spencer stared out the window, blinking hard.

“But life changes all the time,” Dave continued, “and plans can change with it. I know that’s hard, I do, but I also know you can do this.”

Spencer nodded.

“And you know something else?” said Dave. “You don’t have to be okay right now. You don’t have to talk, you don’t have to pretend to be fine. It’s okay to show you’re hurting. It doesn’t make you any less.”

Spencer didn’t react.

“I need to ask you some yes-or-no questions,” said Aaron. “You can just nod or shake your head. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eyes on the road--Dave will tell me what you say. Is that okay?”

Spencer nodded. “Yes,” said Dave, still swiveled in his seat.

“Do you normally speak more than this?”

Spencer nodded vigorously.

“That’s a definite yes,” said Dave.

“Is there a system you use for when you can’t speak as much as you would like?” asked Aaron.

Spencer shook his head. “No,” said Dave.

Aaron paused. “Has this degree of difficulty with speech ever happened to you before?”

Spencer shook his head again. “Never,” said Dave.

“Well, considering that now it has, we should find a way for you to communicate. Do you think you could write?” asked Aaron. “Or type?”

Spencer looked frustrated. “I...” he said. “Talk. Can talk.” He cut off with a cry and slammed a fist into the car’s upholstery.

“I know this must be incredibly frustrating,” said Aaron. “The closest I can think of is when I try to draw--I have a lot in my head, but I can’t get it to come out the pencil quite right. I bet you have a lot in your head, too--and I bet you’ll feel better when you find a way to communicate that works for you right now.”

“It doesn’t mean you’re giving up,” said Dave. “It means you’re adapting.”

Spencer nodded. Then he made a scribbling motion with his hand in the air.

“Writing?” asked Dave. “Okay. Is there room in that notebook you’ve got?

Spencer shook his head.

“Okay then,” said Dave. “I have plenty of notebooks lying around. Do you prefer pen or pencil? One for pen, two for pencil.”

Spencer held up one finger. “Pen, got it,” said Dave. “I have lots of those, too. As soon as we get home I’ll get you set up, okay?”

Spencer nodded. Then, he actually smiled a little bit.

...

When they got home, JJ and Derek were waiting.

“Hey Spencer,” said JJ. “I’m JJ. It’s good to meet you.”

“I’m Derek.”

Spencer didn’t answer. He was looking around at the house, eyes soaking in every detail.

“I’ll go get you a pen and a notebook,” said Dave, who then went to do just that.

When he returned, Spencer reached out for the pen and notebook, curled up in a chair, and started writing.

After a moment, he held out the page to JJ.

_My name is Spencer. It’s good to meet you too. I promise, I’m not stupid. I can talk better than this most of the time._ _I just_ _I don’t_ _Right now I can’t for some reason, but I will soon. I promise._

JJ read the words carefully. Then, she looked at Spencer. “May I show this to the others?”

Spencer nodded.

JJ passed the notebook to Derek, who passed it to Dave, who showed it to Aaron and passed it back to Spencer.

“Not being able to talk doesn’t make you stupid,” said Dave. “And if you can talk soon, we’ll be happy for you. But you don’t have to.”

Slowly, Spencer nodded.

“Do you want us to show you around?” asked Derek. “We can show you your room, and the rest of the house if you want.”

Spencer nodded again and stood up, clutching both his notebooks, and off they went.

...

The next few weeks were a process.

Spencer slowly started to talk more as he got more and more comfortable. (Within a week, he was an absolute chatterbox.) Derek was blown away to discover Spencer reading a Kurt Vonnegut book that he’d left out, but quickly calmed down and let him borrow the rest. Aaron and Dave got Spencer a spinning chair and a weighted blanket for his room, both of which he loved. JJ nicknamed him “Spence,” and discovered that this quite reliably made him smile. All in all, things were going well.

Then August rolled around, and Aaron and Dave had to think about sending Spencer back to school.

The question: should they or should they not get him formally diagnosed?

At this point, they were basically one hundred percent sure he was autistic. His stimming behavior with the spinning chair and the weighted blanket, his occasional nonverbality (he had been talking basically non-stop since he’d gotten speech back, but he hadn’t experienced anything like being separated from his mother, either), his fondness and memory for facts and statistics, his tendency to dive deep on topics of interest--yeah, they were pretty darn sure. He hadn’t needed accommodations in the classroom so far, but if that had changed in the wake of losing his father and mother in fairly quick succession, they wanted to make sure he had the option.

But how would Spencer feel about it?

Only one way to find out.

...

“Spencer,” said Aaron one weekend morning, “Dave and I would like to talk to you about something. Can we go to your room?”

“Okay,” said Spencer, a bit nervously. “What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” said Dave. “You didn’t do anything wrong. We just need to talk about something with just you.”

“Okay,” said Spencer, getting up from the living-room chair that had become  _ his _ chair and walking towards his room.

When they got there, Dave and Aaron went in and shut the door.

“I’m assuming you know what autism is,” said Aaron. “But can you tell me how you understand it?”

“Autism is a developmental disorder of variable severity that is characterized by difficulty in social interaction and communication and by restricted or repetitive patterns of thought and behavior,” Spencer recited. “What do you mean, ‘how you understand it?’”

“We mean, what do you think and know about it beyond the dictionary definition?” said Dave.

“Umm... it’s not really something I’ve looked into much.”

“We’re asking because we think you might be autistic,” said Aaron. “And we’re wondering if...”

He stopped talking at the expression on Spencer’s face.

Spencer was, for lack of a better word,  _ frozen _ . He was sitting stock-still, breath coming in shaky gasps, with a deer-in-headlights expression. As Aaron and Dave watched, tears welled up in his eyes. He made no move to wipe them away as they slowly began spilling down his face.

“Spencer,” said Dave gently, “what is it?”

“I... I...” Spencer forced out. Then, he cut off with a sob.

“It’s okay,” said Aaron. “You don’t have to answer right now.”

Spencer’s sobs picked up in intensity until he was shaking, biting his lip so as not to make noise. 

Dave and Aaron didn’t stare, but they didn’t leave, either.

Eventually, the sobs receded, and Spencer wiped at his eyes with his hands.

“Sorry about that,” he said quietly.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Aaron. “We’d appreciate it if you could tell us what it was about, though.”

Spencer took a deep breath. “I don’t have restricted interests. I’m interested in  _ everything _ . And I don’t have problems with social interaction, the other kids just don’t like me because I’m smarter than them. And I don’t have problems with communication, except that once when I couldn’t talk right, but that could’ve happened to anyone,” he said. Now that he was on a roll, the words were falling in a steady flow of verbiage that Spencer seemed to find a kind of refuge in. “So I can’t be autistic.”

“You know there’s nothing wrong with being autistic, right?” said Dave.

“But...” Spencer choked on a sob. “But if I’m crazy, then they’re gonna come take me away like they took my mom, and I’m never gonna see you or JJ or Derek again.”

“Oh, kiddo,” said Dave. There was  _ so _ much to unpack in that statement, but Dave decided to address the most important thing first. “No one is going to take you away from us. Even if you do get diagnosed with autism, it won’t change anything about who you are or how capable we are of taking care of you. In fact...” Dave debated for a moment whether to tell Spencer the next bit--it might only upset him more--but decided to chance it. “We knew you were probably autistic when we took you in. The foster agency told us. And we took you, because we wanted to be your parents, whether your brain is like everyone else’s or not.”

Spencer sniffled. “Really?”

“Really,” said Aaron.

“So... I’m not crazy?”

“No,” said Aaron. “You’re just different. No one is going to take you away.” Someday, he’d have a talk with Spencer about not using words like “crazy” to describe people, but now was not the time.

Spencer sniffled a little more. Then, he took a deep breath.

“You want to know the funny thing?” said Spencer quietly. “I think I knew. I mean, I didn’t  _ know _ know, but... I always knew something was different about me. I thought it was just being gifted, but...”

“I think you knew, too,” said Dave. “You know how I know?”

“How?” asked Spencer.

“When I asked you what you knew about autism beyond the dictionary definition, you couldn’t answer,” Dave said. “Since it’s you--someone who learns about  _ everything _ \--that tells me you were subconsciously avoiding the subject.”

“That... actually makes sense,” said Spencer. “I kind of wish someone had told me earlier, though. Gotten it over with.” He paused. “Anything else you know about me that I don’t?”

“Fair point,” said Aaron. “We should have told you earlier. But the question still stands. Do you want a diagnosis?”

“If you do,” said Dave, “and you ever need academic or workplace accommodations--or even accommodations for things like a single room in college--you can get them. That’s a big plus. But it’s entirely your decision.”

Spencer shook his head. “If I get diagnosed,” he said, “won’t they make me take special ed?”

“Not necessarily,” said Aaron. “A diagnosis doesn’t automatically get you any accommodations. If you have an IEP--an Individualized Education Plan--then yes, you have to take a special education class, but there’s also something called a 504 plan, which is essentially an IEP but without the special ed requirement. If you don’t need any accommodations in high school, of course, that’s fine too.”

“It’d just be something to have in your back pocket,” said Dave.

Spencer took a deep breath. “If I get diagnosed,” he said, “I can have a single room in college?”

“I can’t guarantee that,” said Aaron, “but I’m fairly certain, yes.”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! The next chapter, whenever I get around to writing it, will be Penelope's arrival story. Also, we'll finally get to see some honest-to-gosh sibling interaction. At least, that's the plan. Best!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this! If you did, please let me know below! I hope you have a wonderful day!


End file.
